


The devil's crush

by ESH_es



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Crushes, Dorks in Love, F/M, Fluff, Secret Crush, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:35:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23377741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ESH_es/pseuds/ESH_es
Summary: The self-proclaimed devil has a crush and the LAPD's best detective cannot figure out who it is.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 35
Kudos: 283





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As always I appreciate constructive criticism and I can't wait to hear your thoughts about this little nugget!
> 
> I present you fluff with a side a fluff! 
> 
> If you want to follow my journey/ future goals and ideas for my fanfics & writing in general, head over to Instagram --> @ESH_es_writes!😁
> 
> lots of love and enjoy!  
> <3

The sun is gleaming relentlessly down on Los Angeles, even with it only being 9 am, when he ducks gracefully underneath the yellow tape shielding the crime scene from voyeuristic intruders.

“It’s preposterous!”, his thick accent disturbs the concentrated silence of the team standing next to the corpse covered by a dark sheet.

She heaves a sigh turning around in one fluid motion at the same moment as Dan and Ella look up at him with similar confused expressions on their faces.

“Look who’s decided to grace us with his presence”, she quips unable to stop herself from rolling her eyes. He tugs at his cufflinks, giving her a nod.  
  


“Yes, you are quite welcome, Detective”, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. She suppresses a snort, before she directs her attention towards the victim in front of her.

“It is, isn’t it?”, Ella sighs, a pitying glance at the sheet as she gets up, “The vic was just enjoying the morning sun, listening to music and then BAM!”, the three people surrounding her can’t help but flinch at her sudden exclamation, “stabbed in the back.”

“What?”, the self-proclaimed devil frowns at her, before shaking his head “No, I meant the insinuation of my therapist that I”, he gestures at his immaculate three-piece suit, “had a crush! I mean… has she even met me?” His laugh bewildered and bordering to outraged. Oh, here we go. She tries her best to stop her eyes from rolling.

“And?”, Dan looked up from the notepad in his hand, the other propped at his hips, “Have you?”

“What?”

“A crush, he means”, Ella’s lips forming a knowing smile.

“Guys”, Chloe can’t help, remark exasperated, “Could we please-“

“I”, Lucifer’s face mirroring a lost puppy, “I… I don’t know.” His glance flickers from the blond woman towards the expecting eyes of his other two coworkers.

“Wow”, Dan couldn’t help but push out a little laugh, “I mean…”, brows drawing together, “I… how can you _not_ know?”

“Well, Sir Douche, I have _you_ know-“

“Alright, guys”, it’s her voice putting a halt to their bickering, hands against her hips, “How about we focus more on the murder and less on Lucifer’s love life, yeah?” She gestures at the body in front of them, eyes suggesting them to _shut up and do their jobs_.

“Very well”, her eccentric partner huffs, with a quick glance at her. They have been working long enough together for him to know that dead bodies left in the sun for too long started reeking.

The topic isn’t brought up until later, as they have gathered in Ella’s lab, hovering over evidence and waiting for lab results.

“So, to get back to our previous topic”, the lab tech’s voice is tinted with amusement, dark eyes glinting curiously as she is ogling at skin samples through her microscope, “spill it, man. Who’s the mysterious lady?”

He looks up. “Who?”

“The total non-crush crush that you’re having?”

A snort.

“Yeah, man, I mean. How can you not know?”

“Sounds like denial to me”, Chloe grins as she looks up from the case file in her hand.

“That’s a river in Egypt, Detective. Do keep up.” He has the audacity to wink at her.

“Stop deflecting, dude. Tell us! I wanna know _ev-ery-_ thing.” Ella’s grin is so wide, that it would split her face in half, would that be physically possible.

Dan is leaning against the table, arms crossed in front of his chest and a smirk on his face, clearly enjoying the other man squirming under their expectant gazes. “Yeah, come on.”

“I… what’s there to tell?”, he furrows his brows and hides underneath a dazzling smile.

“So there is someone!”, the Latina woman squeals excitedly, “Like- everything.”

His bewildered expression has his partner rolling her eyes. “He said, he doesn’t know, right?”, she jumps in

“Well, how _do_ you know?”, he cocks his head inquisitively. Three stunned faces meet his gaze, as they realize that he is indeed serious.

“Well”, Dan starts, but Ella interrupts him:

“Tell us how does your non-crush crush make you feel?”

The darkhaired man finally sets down the file he has been holding, setting it down. He stares into nothing for a moment, a pensive silence over the lab, before he lifts his eyes, meeting her blue ones unsurely. She gifts him with an encouraging smile and interest written all across her features. Now her curiosity is piqued.

“I… Well”, he takes a small breath, “Good, I suppose?”

At Ella’s gaping mouth, he lifts his hands placatingly and continues, “Like I don’t have to pretend to be someone I am not.” Once the admission slipped over his lips, the words fall more freely from his tongue. “Like – when I’m having a bad day, having her smiling at me makes me feel like –“

“Heaven?”, Ella suggests as she senses him struggling with his words.

“What? No”, he snorts, “heaven has nothing on her.” _Self-righteous pricks_ , she can hear him mutter under his breath.

“It makes me feel like it doesn’t matter anymore, because she’s here and with her by my side I get through whatever _Dad_ decides to throw my way.”

“Always with the methods acting”, Ella giggles, but he pretends not to hear her, his gaze staring into nothing and everything as his lips curve softly.

“She makes me want to be _better_. And… I don’t even want her just for sex, I would be content to just hold her.”

Chloe can’t help, but quip, “That lucky woman.” at the thought of his never-ending innuendos, nevertheless taken by his thoughtful and warm expression, that he usually hides behind a mask of sly smirks and continuous flirting.

His eyes snap up at that, open and soft. “You know, actually, Detective-”

“Wait, is it a man?”

“What?”, he gifts the man with an incredulous look over his shoulder, “Didn’t I use the female pronoun, Daniel?”

Before he can respond to that, stuttering and ears turning a deep shade of red, Ella interrupts them – excitement nearly knocking them of their feet, “I knew it! The non-crush crush is very much of a yes-crush crush!”

His surprised “It is?” is lost under her rambling about “ _She knew it_ ” and “ _Gosh, those handsome babies he would have._ ”

That earns her a terrified look and him claiming that he would “ _very much not like to procreate, thank you very much, Miss Lopez!_ ”, before Chloe finally takes pity in him and drags him out of the lab, towards her desk.

She giggles as he releases a relieved breath as he collapses into the chair he dragged across the precinct, just to sit next to her, after Dan had raged that he could not use his all the time.

“How did I not hear as much as a quip about that mysterious lady before?”, she glares at him with amusement dancing across her lips as she does the same.

“I didn’t even know that it mattered until five minutes ago myself”, he tries to defend himself, the softness back in his eyes.

“Tell me about her”, she demands a little more quietly now, a smile betraying her mocked offense, “I mean, after all, partners need trust each other and all of that”, she makes a vague gesture with the pen twirling between her fingers.

Something glints in his eyes, before he leans back in his chair, a smirk on his face, “Right.”

“And I do not mean her sexual interests”, she draws a face at that.

He snorts, “I wouldn’t know her carnal desires, Detective.”

Her mouth drops open at that. _How is that even possible_? “What- you haven’t.. you know-?”

“I haven’t actually”, his grin displays something proud. Blinking as if she had to digest that particular piece of information, she stares at him, before she manages to get a grip on herself. 

“Right. Never mind. Go on. Tell me”, a chuckle leaves his throat at her vehement nods as she tugs the pile of paperwork towards her, starting to fill in the gaps of report of the last case they solved.

“She’s quite remarkable, actually”, she has never heard his voice so taken, reverent before. As if he couldn’t even believe a being like her existed. “She is beautiful, of course”, she can’t help but roll her eyes, “smart, witty, great humor. She-“, he frowns as if he’s unsure of how to continue, “she has the ability to make everyone around her feel like they are seen, like they matter. She is selfless, like astoundingly so. She puts up with my … well. Me.”

His eyes sparkle amusedly as his partner grins at that, “Oh, she has my deepest condolences.”

Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes.

“How did you two meet?”, she inquires as he falls silent again, his eyes seeing something only they can.

“At Lux, I was playing the piano and she came right up to me and started throwing her questions at me.”

“Oh, bold.”

“Mhm, just how I like it”, he sends her one of his salacious grins and ducks just in time to avoid being hit by the pen she has thrown in his direction. Mirth twinkles in his eyes. She ignores his _The-cat-got-the-canary_ -look.

Silence falls above them again, allowing the precinct’s bustling noises fill the gap. She continued filling in the reports resting on her desk- quiet, but invitingly so should he want to share something else, while he is twirling the onyx ring on his middle finger – lost in thoughts. LA’s bachelor and the self-proclaimed devil has a _crush_. 

-{oOo}-

They are out on a case, trying find the suspect in question, that never seems to be at home, when they’re standing in front of the shabby apartment door. They have decided to wait in the car (air conditioning and all) to observe the complex until their perp showed up. Lucifer is toying with the radio stations as per usual, his suit jacket folded neatly in his lap.

“So, how is it going with your mystery lady?”, she breaks the silence, while her eyes never leave the building.

He looks startled at the question, before he gathers himself.

“Ah, the doctor says I’m making progress with initiating non-sexual touch”, he sounds like a proud child managing to pronounce an incredibly long and difficult word.

“Mh”, she makes, vague as she isn’t quite sure what to answer to that. What does one answer to that?

“A hug”, he adds as if he had to clarify what he meant.

A grin finding its way on her lips, even if she tries to suppress it. “And?” She knows Lucifer as highly sexual being, reveling in the sensual attention of all genders, yet it’s the innocent touches – Ella hugging him, Trixie attaching herself to his legs, Dan’s pats on his back, a shoulder brushing, a fleeting, reassuring touch of her hand – that startle him as if he had never learned to accept a kind touch without any hidden (or sometimes not so hidden) intention.

He huffs a light breath. “It was… nice. Made me feel warm on the inside, you know?”

She nods and smiles at him.

“And even though I held her, I had this… this overwhelming sensation of feeling a kind of peace? A kind of safety? Does that make sense?” He looks at her so utterly confused as if he isn’t sure what to make of his emotions.

“It does”, she takes her eyes of the building, “it’s how a hug is supposed to make you feel.”

“Oh”, he mumbles, “fascinating.”

They sit in silence, the soft tunes of some pop ballade tumbling through the car.

“I love getting on her nerves”, he smirks as he listens to the crooning sound of the singer.

“ _Do you eva_?”, she can’t help, but imitate his accent. A loud snort left his mouth, before laughter filled the air between them. His breath comes in pants as he settles onto a chuckle. The dark orbs of his eyes illuminated by joy and something soft as he looks at her.

“Right”, he grins, “she’s really cute, when she glares at me and pretends to be angry.”

“So, you’re just annoying her, so she can glare at you?”, she shakes her head incredulously as he nods with a proud smirk on his lips, “Reminds me of someone I know.”

“Yes, me too.”

-{oOo}-

It’s not until late afternoon, when Lucifer is long gone because _Dad_ beware, that he’d actually help with paperwork, that the blonde detective is leaning against the table at the lab, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.

“What’s on your mind, girl?”, the forensic scientist is smiling warmly at her, “I can tell something is bothering you.”

“Hm? Oh, no, it’s nothing”, she shakes her head maybe a little too vehemently.

“You sure, because - lemme tell ya, this girl”, she gestures at herself, “is all about listenin’.”

“Nope, I’m sure.”

“All right”, the lab tech turns back to the list of chemical compounds in the victim’s system, as Chloe blurts out, “Do you know, who Lucifer’s crush is?”

Lowering the papers in her hand the dark eyes narrow suspiciously.

“You wanna tell me that you don’t know who his mystery lady is?”

The other woman shrugs her shoulders, trying to look nonchalant. “I mean, for a man all about over sharing I don’t really know that much about her, you know? And- and I mean he looks so happy and so … well”, she sighs staring into nothing as she admits, “so in love. Like, that’s something I’d never anticipated. And”, now the words tumble faster and faster off her lips, while Ella stares at her with wide eyes, trying to follow, “I don’t want to – you know – sound jealous, because I’m not, I’m really not, but I’d love to actually meet the woman who’s making him so happy and…”

“Whoa there, _chica, calmàte_! Okay? Breathe.”

She nods, taking a deep breath, before a quiet, “You know?” leaves her lips.

The smaller woman is furrowing her brows tightly as if she’s trying to solve a particularly hard equation.

“Look, what do you know about her?”

“She’s kind and smart and beautiful and they bicker all the time, _apparently._ And she’s drinking “ _that horrendous swill she calls coffee_ ”, but I mean for Lucifer that can mean literally any kind of coffee that’s not made in a machine that cost more than my monthly salary. He met her at Lux and…”, she sighs and tries to remember something else, “Yeah. Gives good hugs. That’s it. That’s pretty vague, I mean that could be anyone!”

“Totes, girlfriend, totes”, her friend nods along, “but you’ll figure it out, you always do.” She winks at her, the corners of her mouth tugging upwards so slightly that she might have missed it.

-{oOo}-

Time goes by slowly, not only the weeks passing by, but also the hours when you’re sitting in a car hidden in close vicinity to a warehouse at the docks. They have been here for the last four hours and kept the conversation flowing going from politics to bubble baths and back to climate change and finally settling on their usual banter.

“Someone tamed the devil it seems”, she grins at him, as he keeps going back to his _mystery lady_ and how he enjoyed being around her _. She makes me feel light._

“Far from it, detective”, he smirks, “the devil can’t be tamed.”

“Sure thing”, she snorts.

“But she handles him quite well, yes”, he chuckles, leaning against the headrest, his eyes trained on the darkness in front of him.

Her eyes take in his relaxed features, the soft smile around his corners, the way his eyes sparkle more as of late. He looks so content with where he is in his life and she’s glad. She’s so very glad to see him like this. She hadn’t noticed the constant hard lines around his mouth before, that have softened over the past weeks, hadn’t noticed the way that tension had forced his shoulders into a firm line before, realising it only now that it alreadyhas eased. And as much as she hates the foul betrayal of her heart, she couldn’t help but feel a sudden gratefulness for that woman rushing through her. He’s happy and she’s so glad. She shifts in her seat to face him properly. His head turns towards her, gaze inquiring.

“You really love her, don’t you?” Her soft words hang in the night as they reach him. A pensive expression transforms his features as he sits, stares. (For a moment she thinks she overstepped an invisible line.) She can’t tell what he’s thinking as he gazes at her with those dark eyes of his that seemed to carry the weight of the worlds sometimes. But then again, he is looking at her and his voice is impossible soft as he answers

“I suppose so, yes.”

And she’s so glad, that he found someone with whom he felt like he could open up again. She had seen the scars on his back, marred and crescent shaped against his shoulder blades. She’s glad that he has found someone to share his burden with, someone who can take away his pain for a little while and shows him that he is worth it.

“Have you told her yet?”, she wants to know. A shake of his head is all she gets.

“Why not?” Her head is tilted, genuinely curious. The way he talks about her, about them leaves her wondering. What is he afraid of? From what he has told her there is no reason to be afraid, because clearly – the two of them were stupidly in love with each other. He takes a deep breath, before slowly exhaling.

“I don’t know. I just… I can’t.”

“What? Why?”, she frowns at him, “That’s a stupid reason.”

“I know”, he sounds increasingly frustrated with himself, “Believe me, I know. It sounds bloody ridiculous. But I can’t.”

“I know, it’s scary the first time around, but you just have to try and –“

“Detective, I practiced it in front of the mirror, but when I want to tell y-“, he takes a deep breath, “when I want to tell _her…_ I just can’t.”

Her eyes are huge globes as she stares him, mouth gaping open. Even in the dark she could see him blushing furiously. Lucifer fucking Morningstar, lifelong bachelor and self-proclaimed devil, standing in front of the mirror in his ridiculously huge bathroom trying to gather the nerve and tell a woman how he felt. Her brain blacks out as she tries to react somehow, but it takes a while for her to reach for his hand and to squeeze it tightly.

“You can. One day. Don’t pressure yourself.”

He returned her gesture with a nervous, yet grateful smile, his shoulders relaxing.

“Thank you, Detective.”

She squeezes his hand again, more softly this time, before she lets go. She heaves a sigh, trying to convince herself that she’s just curious – and only curious – as she asks, “Will you introduce me to her one day?”

His eyes widen a fraction as the smile morphs into a mirthful grin that makes him look so young and carefree that she thinks her heart might spontaneously combust.

“I might, actually. Soon.” 

“Hopefully”, she chuckles, “I can’t wait to meet her.”

He breathes in slowly, controlled and glances at her. “Me neither.”

-{oOo}-

It’s not until they have caught their perp and a new day has dawned as he waltzes into the precinct, a joyful spring in his step and a bright smile on his lips as he makes a bee line for her desk.

“Detective!”, he greets her jovially as he places the take-away cup in front of her nose.

“Thank you”, she says, before taking in his excited expression, “Someone’s in a good mood?” The corners of her mouth tug upwards as she eyes him as she takes a sip.

“I am, my dear Detective”, he flings himself into his chair, spinning around until he’s facing her again, “And so should you.” The mischief in his undertone should worry her, but all it elicits is an eye roll.

“And why is that?”, she humors him, absently sipping the coffee he brought her as she flips through a few reports that she has to sort out.

“Because I’ll introduce you to my “ _mystery lady_ ”, he airquotes with a little amused smirk on his lips, “today, of course.”

Had she actually drunken something, she would have spit out the liquid in surprise. Instead she stares at him with a perfect deer in headlight expression.

“W-what?” He chuckles while fiddling with cufflinks grinning brightly at her. 

“Are you having trouble with your hearing, Detective? If so, I know a doctor that owes me a favour, I am sure we come to an agreement.”

That breaks the spell as she snorts, shaking her head to regain her focus.

“Thank you, Lucifer, I appreciate it”, her words dripping with sarcasm, “I mean… that’s – that’s great actually! Are you sure?”

“Very positive, Detective.”

“Okay”, she shakes herself again, unable to suppress the curiosity that stretched its neck to see better from the backseat in her heart. The front seat is taken by the little sour emotion named Jealousy, that clawed its way into her conscious. “Okay, great! How- uhm – what’s your plan?”

She eyes him and takes in the happiness that radiates around him. She’s his friend, goddamn it. She’ll do her best to get along with his girlfriend for his sake. It doesn’t matter that Jealousy is jumping up and down furiously, throwing a fully blown temper tantrum inside her chest that makes her stomach turn. He’s happy and she will support him, no matter what she might or might not feel for him.

“Well, I thought maybe we could do dinner at the new Italian place that opened last week? I’m sure I can make a reservation?” He looks at her with his eyebrows lifted expectantly.

“Are you sure?”, she asks, tugging her lower lips with her teeth, “won’t that be… I don’t know, awkward, you know?”

“Why? It’s just dinner, Detective.”

“I know, but-“

“You do want to meet her, right?”, a hesitant expression flickers across his features only to be hidden an exuberant smile. He’s happy, goddamn it and she should be glad. Taking a deep breath she nods.

“Yes, yes, let’s do this”, she says before she can think twice about it.

“Marvelous”, he grins, pulling out his phone with a flourish, “after the shift?”

“Sure”, she nods, pulling her keyboard closer to search for the address of their next suspect that they had to question, “but for now-“

“Focus at the case, yes I got it, Detective”, he rolls his eyes, amusement evident on his features. She can’t help but smile in satisfaction. The man was capable of learning something, who would have thought? The addresses find their way onto her notepad, while her devilish partner keeps rambling on, something about _Detective Douche and his pudding_ , the red soles of his Louboutins propped up on the edge of her desk. Right. Never mind. Still the same old Lucifer.

“Come on”, she stands, her chair slipping back as she gives his feet a shove, “We have suspects to question.” The way his face lights up with glee ensures that the warm, all-encompassing feeling is rising within her chest, but again Jealousy stomps its foot angrily, turning on its heel to look for a corner to sulk in. Great. Just amazing. He is happy. And she’ll get her head out of her ass and get along with his mystery woman, even if it’s the last thing she does.

“Marvelous!”, he beams, jumping up, “Lead the way, Detective!” She strides past him as he falls into his familiar spot right beside her, hand hovering above the small of her back as it always does. And Jealousy throws her a smirk, teeth showing, lips curling. _Goddamn it_.

-{oOo}-

It’s late and she is tired, not only of the day she has had, but also of those annoyingly persistent emotions lurking in her chest. Her hand comes up to rub her face, while she shoves her feelings in one of the boxes in the back of her mind, taping it shut with at least three layers of duct tape. That’d have to do. Her fingers tuck loose strands of her hair back, before deciding to redo her ponytail again. She feels icky and drained and _why did she agree to this again_? In front of her inner eye she can see a slim figure, hugged by finest silk, lips painted an enticing shade of red with hair flowing and shimmering in the soft candlelight, while she laughs at something Lucifer said, leaning in – aaand there it is again. She groans. She’d better put another five rolls of duct tape around that box. 

Her car is parked across the street, Lucifer’s corvette only a few cars in front of her. She takes a deep breath. She can do this. She’s a police officer for fuck’s sake. She faced worse situations than meeting her partner’s girlfriend. She straightens her shoulders. It doesn’t matter that she’s coming right from work and that she probably looks more exhausted than anything else. This isn’t about her. Having made up her mind she gets out, slamming her door shut. A few moments later the tall figure of her partner is right beside her.

“Ready?”, he smiles at her with wide eyes, fiddling with his cufflinks. She can’t help but smile.

“Aside from feeling ridiculously underdressed, I’m good”, she sighs.

“You look lovely as ever, don’t worry, Detective”, his honest words reverberate in her chest causing the warmth blooming in her stomach all over again.

“Thanks, Lucifer”, she steals a glance at him. He’s still tugging at the tips of his sleeves, “Are you okay?”

He blows out a quick breath, “Just a little nervous, not worth the mention really.”

“Hey”, her fingers find their way to his arm and his eyes fall onto it almost instantly, “There’s no reason for that, okay? I’m sure her and I will get along, alright?”

His gaze lifts, dark and soft, happy even, “Alright.” She smiles brightly at him, only to be interrupted by her stomach growling.

“I’m starving”, she tugs at his arm to get him moving, “Let’s go!”

His amused laughter fills her ears and for a moment the five rolls of duct tape don’t seem enough.

The scent of fresh herbs mingling with the rich flavour of olive oil and garlic meets them as they slip inside. Her mouth waters at the thought of bread right out of the oven, warm and crispy on her tongue.

“A reservation on Morningstar”, she hears Lucifer say, but she is too caught up in the paradise her mind paints for her yearning stomach. Has she even had lunch? She can’t quite remember. But as he calls for her - _Detective, are you coming?_ – she snaps out of her trance and follows him through the rows of tables. The capitating melody of Mediterranean music lulls her in and before she knows it, she’s sitting with Lucifer opposite of her, two glasses of red wine in front of them, shimmering in the candlelight.

“Right”, he pulls her out of her dream like state. He huffs a breath, before he leans forward, forearms braced against the table. “There’s something I need to tell you, Detective, before we can begin this evening. I … it concerns my, well, the woman I’ve been talking so much about lately. I –“, he blows the air out of his cheeks, radiating a nervousness that she doesn’t know of him.

“Hey”, her hand finds his, thumb stroking it reassuringly, as she flashes him a soft smile. His fingers are trembling ever so slightly. “Whatever it is, whatever you wanna tell me, I am here for you, okay?”

He lifts his gaze up to meet hers. “Right. Yes”, he swallows, before clearing his throat, “Detective, it’s true, there is a very special woman in my life that I have – as of late - found to harbour a great deal of fondness for. I – she… she is, well.” He shuts his mouth as he finds himself rambling. She squeezes his hand lightly.

“Lucifer, you can tell me who she is, alright? I- you have absolutely nothing to worry about.” He nods, closing his eyes for a brief second, before he looks right at her, the deep brown orbs open and vulnerable. For a moment he pauses.

“The woman, I care so much for, she is – she means everything to me”, he continues and she can tell he barely keeps his voice from breaking, “She’s”, he swallows, one deep breath.

“Her name is Chloe Jane Decker”, he says, “she walked into Lux one day, pestering me with questions regarding the murder of a companion of mine and we have been solving crimes together ever since.“

_Her name is Chloe Jane Decker_.

His eyes so, so soft and his expression vulnerable and waiting, while a tiny smile graces his lips.

Turns out five rolls of duct tape are definitely not enough. Emotions break free, loud and raging and overwhelming and she sits through the storm anchored by his warm gaze that makes her insides tingle, that fills her heart with a feeling so all-encompassing that it threatens to burst out of her chest.

“What?”, she breathes, fingers still holding his tightly, “me?”

“That’s what I said, Detective, do keep up”, he teases her, but she can hear his voice shake even though he surely tries his best to keep it steady.

_She makes me want to be **better**._

_And even though I held her, I had this… this overwhelming sensation of feeling a kind of peace? A kind of safety?_

_-You really love her, don’t you?_

_I suppose so, yes._

Her sight is blurring and she can feel her lips spreading into a wide smile.

“Detective, are you alright?”, his brows furrow worriedly, concern evident in his voice, “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

She fervently shakes her head, grin still spreading.

“You’re not alri-“, he trails off, “I apologize, that wasn’t my intention, I swear.”

“Lucifer.”

“Det- Chloe, shall I go? Is that-“

“Lucifer!”

His mouth snaps shut and he stares at her. “Detective?”

Still smiling so widely that her face might split in half, she leans across the table.

“Shut up.” With that her lips find his.

For a moment he stiffens, before he melts against her, hands cradling her face delicately. And in the blur of warmth and softness and passion she can’t help but think that being the self-proclaimed devil’s crush is one of the best things that happened to her.


	2. Lucifer's perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The devil has a crush and slowly comes to terms with it. 
> 
> Only the beginning and ending scene are the same situations as in chapter 1. no worries ;)
> 
> As this chapter is written from Lucifer's perspective it is not quite as fluffy, but still XD
> 
> I suppose the whole thing is set somewhere around Season 2 Episode 7. ^^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to @Godisqueer who had the idea to write the whole thing from Lucifer's perspective!
> 
> Enjoy!

The sun is gleaming relentlessly down on Los Angeles, even with it only being 9 am, when he ducks absentmindedly underneath the yellow tape shielding the crime scene from voyeuristic intruders.

A crush. The devil. What is the Doctor even thinking?

“It’s preposterous!”, he exclaims as he makes a bee line for the Detective, who is staring at a body covered by one of those dreadful black sheets. Daniel and Miss Lopez yank their heads up just to meet him with similarly bewildered expressions, while his partner greets him with an eyeroll.

“Look who’s decided to grace us with his presence”, a hint of a grin on her lips that she hides so well. Wouldn’t he have been so distraught from his therapy session he might have laughed at it. Instead he gives her a short nod, checking his cufflinks.

“Yes, you are quite welcome, Detective”, he can’t hinder a beginning smirk from stealing its way onto his face. He enjoys their banter just too much for him to suppress it. He holds back a groan as she turns back at the body, clearly amused, even though she pretends not to be. For Dad’s sake.

_From what you have just told me your feelings for Detective Decker seem to surpass a simply platonic level._

_And? , He couldn’t quite gather what the Doctor is aiming at._

_Lucifer, you have a crush on her._

“BAM”, he flinches as Miss Lopez’ exclamation, “stabbed in the back.”

“What?”, he furrows his brows as he feels himself getting worked up again, “No, I meant the insinuation of my therapist that I”, he gestures at himself, needing them to understand, “Had a crush! I mean … has she even met me?” He barks a laugh. Surely, they agree. The devil does not have deeper feelings for a mere mortal woman. Absolutely not.

“And? Have you?”, Daniel looks at him expectantly.

“What?”

“A crush, he means”, Miss Lopez has one of her I _-know-something-y’all-don’t_ smiles on her lips, that throws him off balance. Has he? It cannot be. In all the eons that he has existed he has never felt anything even resembling the fond feeling of romantic attraction for anybody. How could he, when he was held down by the shackles that hell’s reign burdened him with? The only time he has felt something resembling love had been before his fall, but he refuses to go down that particular rabbit hole. He suppresses the bitter taste that threatens to overtake his senses. But – the Detective makes the devil bleed, so what if-?

“I”, he begins, before he can stop himself, “I… I don’t know.” His eyes flicker to the blonde woman beside him and he wonders. Yet they travel back to the other two at the Douche’s remark.

“Wow… I mean… I - how can you _not_ know?” The accusation in his tone provokes his already strained temper. Confusion and unwanted emotions that he cannot bloody decipher have rubbed his nerves raw.

“Well, Sir Douche, I have _you_ know-“, he snaps, only to be interrupted by the Detective.

“Alright, guys”, it’s her voice that helps him draw a deep breath and control the buckling and bristling _thing_ inside him, “How about we focus more on the murder and less on Lucifer’s love life, yeah?” She gestures at the body in front of them and her eyes carry that distinct look that he knows so well. _Shut up and get back to the case._

_“_ Very well”, he huffs.

They are going through the found evidence in Miss Lopez’ lab. He is skimming through the file his partner has shoved into his hands to stop him from showering them with his – as he thought – hilarious puns, so he _could actually be useful, please?_ The quirky forensic scientist is fiddling with the different objectives of her beloved microscope as she raises her voice.

“So, to get back to our previous topic”, her voice is tinted with amusement “spill it, man. Who’s the mysterious lady?”

He looks up. “Who?” _Oh, bloody hell_. As much as he appreciated that woman and her perceptiveness, couldn’t she just let is go?

“The total non-crush crush that you’re having?”

A snort leaves his lips as he buries himself deeper into the case file, seemingly nonchalant.

“Yeah, man, I mean. How can you not know?” He deliberately ignores the Douche, but can’t help but to look up as the Detective grins cheekily at him.

“Sounds like denial to me.”

“That’s a river in Egypt, Detective. Do keep up.” He throws her a wink. The satisfaction that rushes through him as she rolls her eyes should probably not have such a big impact on him.

“Stop deflecting, dude. Tell us! I wanna know _ev-ery-_ thing.” If Miss Lopez’ grin would have been any wider, the corners of her lips would have met after creating a perfect circle on her face.

He feels his heart stop a beat, because hello? the person in question is _literally_ siting right in front of him.

“I… what’s there to tell?”, he tries to throw her off with one of the dazzling smiles that women are normally swooning over.

“So, there is someone!”, the Latina woman squeals excitedly, “Like- everything.”

Oh great. _Of course,_ that is what she chooses to react to. Some foreign part deep in his chest wants to tell the woman he considers his friend, but the detective is present and she has that glint of interest in her eyes, that she always gets when they are having a chat with their perps in the interrogation room.

“He said, he doesn’t know, right?”, she jumps in.

How should he even know?! It wasn’t like he has ever had such a thing as a _crush_. He loathes that ridiculous word. 

“Well, how _do_ you know?”, he carefully avoids to let his frustration bleed through his words as he cocks his head and is met by three stunned faces.

“Well”, Daniel starts, but Ella interrupts him:

“Tell us how does your non-crush crush make you feel?”

He carefully sets down the file he has been holding, knowing that there is no escaping now. May father give him strength.

He stares into nothing for a moment, before he lifts his eyes, meeting her blue ones unsurely. How _does_ she make him feel? His heart expands softly, longing for her gentle touch, smiling at her with an intensity that would have knocked him of his feet, wouldn’t he be sitting anyway.

She gifts him with an encouraging smile and curiosity written all across her features. She’s definitely too nosy for her own good, but well, he isn’t the master of evasion for nothing.

“I… well”, he is at loss for words. Taking a small breath he continues, “Good, I suppose?”

He cringes inwardly at Miss Lopez’ gaping mouth. His ability to talk about his emotion definitely needs practice. Bloody hell. He lifts his hands placatingly.

“Like I don’t have to pretend to be someone I am not.”

_Them dancing through the crowd in Lux, her face adorned by a carefree laugh, their bodies close. Her distinct smell embracing him._

_This is your home, Lucifer. I’ve always been on your side._

_I’m here for you. I thought you could use a friend._

“Like – when I’m having a bad day, having her smiling at me makes me feel like –“, he struggles to capture the way relief would bleed through him, when he’d stroll into the precinct desperate for something or someone to take his mind of the mess his life tends to be. And then the detective would be waiting for him at her desk, a casefile in her arms and a pleased smile on her lips.

“Heaven?”

“What? No”, he snorts at that. Of course, Miss Lopez would think that, “heaven has nothing on her.” He shoves the unpleasant pictures deep, deep down and buries them underneath eons of memories. “Self-righteous pricks”, he growls more to himself than anyone else.

“It makes me feel like it doesn’t matter anymore, because she’s here and with her by my side I get through whatever _Dad_ decides to throw my way.” He ignores the remark about the bloody method acting.

“She makes me want to be _better_. And… I don’t even want her just for sex, I would be content to just hold her.” He can’t help but think back to when she had showed up at his place drunk and upset. Her head had rested on his chest as she curled closer into him, while the overwhelming urge to protect her had risen in his chest, flooded his entire being as she had contently drooled onto his pristine shirt.

“That lucky woman”, the person in question quips and he can’t help but raise his eyes at her, blue eyes sparkling with mirth.

“You know, actually Detective –“ As the Douche falls into his awkwardly started explanation he feels gratitude rush through him, before ice replaces the soft warmth. He has nearly told her he meant her in front of his colleagues. His heart gives a warning squeeze and he resists the urge to roll his eyes at that. Yes, he’s understood, thank you very much. He has to be more careful.

-{oOo}-

His fingers drum a quick rhythm on his kneecaps of his crossed legs as he avoids the open gaze of his therapist.

The latter softly clears her throat, before she begins, “Lucifer, in our last session we brushed a topic that clearly made you uncomfortable. Have you thought about my words since then?”

He sighs, hesitantly uncrossing his long legs. Still his restless hands looked for a distraction, eyes searching the room. As they get caught at the Doctor’s warm smile, he draws in a breath. There is no hiding now, not the devil hid from anything, that is.

“Well, I did, yes.”, a quick exhale, “and you know, it seems that you were right.” Her eyebrows shoot up, her mouth forming a surprised “Oh?”

He nods, glancing downwards, before reaching for the jug of water. For a moment the steady patter is the only thing filling his therapist’s office.

“How did you come to this conclusion?”, he can literally hear the curiosity in her tone as if she hasn’t anticipated him to agree with her.

“We had a little chat about it at work”, he explains, “Miss Lopez, Detective Douche, the Detective and I.” At her shocked gaze he hastens to add, “Without telling them her name, naturally.”

“Naturally”, she shakes her head.

“You should be proud of me Doctor”, a wide grin stretching his features, “I mean, I talked to other people about my emotions”, he chuckles, “Even though they are not quite pleasant to be honest.” He frowns at that and brings his glass to his lips to wet his tongue.

“You did what?”, she blurts out, breaking from her normally strictly professional role.

“Right?”, he laughs, “it’s unbelievable.”

“Who are you and what did you do to Lucifer Morningstar?” He snorts at that.

“Still the same devil that I always was.”

“You did A, take my advice into consideration”, she holds up her fingers to count them, “and B, you opened up to someone about something that is seemingly new and terrifying to you.”

“The devil doesn’t get terrified”, he clarifies, but shuts his lips at the look she throws him.

“Humor me”, she rolls her eyes behind the thick rim of her glasses.

Right, he could do that.

“Lucifer don’t you see? This is progress. _Real_ progress. I _am_ proud of you. You are finally opening up to someone.”

The steady beat of his heart stutters. He looks up at her, gaze open and confused.

“You”, he pauses. Why on earth would she be proud of him? Why would anyone be proud of him? After what he has done. At a loss of words, he searches for something in her eyes, hoping to find understanding. As he does, he huffs a relieved breath.

“Right”, he sighs, “Isn’t this the point where you send me off with some suggestion of yours or you dissect my emotions?”

She shakes her head, “Yes, yes of course.”

“Unless you want to know more about Hilter’s torture, I do have more intel on that”, a smirk dances across his lips.

“No”, lids quickly closing and opening, “No need for that. Let’s get back to you.”

“Marvelous”, he purrs.

“You said before that those emotions concerning Chloe are not entirely pleasant, even though one would think that being in love with someone is exactly that. Pleasant.”

He snorts sitting up, “I wouldn’t go as far as calling it “being in love”, Doctor. The devil doesn’t do love.”

“Then what is it then? If the devil doesn’t do love, what is it that you are feeling?”

“I”, his mouth is opening and closing. He does not know, for Dad’s sake. That is the whole bloody point of therapy, isn’t it?

“I am not sure.” Hesitantly he looks up at her. With an encouraging smile she gestures him to go on and he huffs out a breath, “I … there is this warm feeling inside my stomach when she smiles at me. Just the mere fact of her presence has the ability to calm me down. I can’t deny that I am indeed very fond of her, I’d do anything … to- to protect her”, his voice breaks, because he knows and they know exactly how far he has gone and will go to protect Chloe Decker. Guilt surges in his gut, stinging and foul.

_I didn’t see that one coming._

“Lucifer, we have talked about this”, she says, because she knows that look on his face. He swallows thickly, schooling his heaving chest. He nods.

“Yes, we did.”

“You have listed positive emotions that are associated with Chloe. Yet you seem unsettled, despite the obvious reasons of course. Why is that?”

“I – because what if”, he swallows, “Doctor, it’s true, the devil doesn’t do love, but the part of me that was once an angel did and… and”, he leans back, crossing his legs, “Let’s just say it didn’t go too well.”

“You mean your family.” The corners of his mouth tug downwards, while his fingers dance along the fabric of the couch’s armrest, as he nods.

“Exactly.” Pensive silence unfolds in the small office.

“Do you remember the session a while back, when you were having your vulnerability issue with Chloe?”

He gives her a look, motioning her to continue.

“We talked about making ourselves vulnerable, when we care deeply about a person. Having to trust the other person.”

“I do trust her, Doctor. I truly do. With my life.” He just isn’t sure whether he would put his battered and broken soul into her hands. He doesn’t know how much more rejection it could take.

“I believe you, Lucifer. But being in love does always pose a certain risk of rejection. That is only natural. Family on the other hand-“, her features darken, “Your family’s love shouldn’t have.” She shakes her head, falling back into the role of his therapist, not his friend.

“What are your next steps?”

He furrows his brows, “Next steps?”

“Recognizing the emotions that we harbour is only the first step. We have to decide how to react to them and how to deal with them in a proactive manner.”

“Riight”, he draws the word out, “and I do so _how_?”

“What do you want with Chloe? Do you want to be her partner at work? Her friend? Something more?”

“More, I suppose”, he is twirling the onyx ring around his finger, “… to be her partner, not only at work I mean, but… you see, I have never really done such a thing before…”

At that the Doctor just smiles her _we’ll figure it out and be we I mean you_ smile. Great. Just bloody marvelous.

-{oOo}-

_Make your feelings known_ , the blasted Buzzfeed side had suggested. So, he tries to convey the sea of emotions that he can’t quite put in words in every little thing he does. The rolling and glittering waves of joy transform into her favourite tall non-fat almond milk latté with sugar free caramel drizzle and a winking devil emoji next to a scribbled _Detective_ that she laughs at. The all-encompassing flood of fondness kissing the shore when she smiles at him turns into late nights buried underneath paperwork. The light breeze on a hot summer day, the easiness that grips him when he’s with her morphs into picking the spawn up from school and takeout from the Chinese place she loves so much. And then, when she asks, he tells her in so many words.

That she is remarkable and smart and witty and so truly good. That he can’t remember what life felt without her. That she has managed to lighten up an existence so dark that it had even threatened to swallow the Lightbringer, the Morningstar as a whole. He tells her how he loves their bickering, her glare that she tries to mask her amusement with. The words flow and flow, until it feels as easy as breathing and his old, battered and broken soul flutters excitedly in his chest.

“I am so happy for her”, she says and then he remembers that no matter how much he wants her to understand, he doesn’t make her understand. And the eon old walls rise up again, his soul crawling into the farthest corner of his being. First, he fell from heaven and then in love with her. His soul is afraid of what falling a third time might feel like.

-{oOo}-

“The question is, whether you want her to know, what you feel for her.”

“I suppose I do? I did try to tell her.”

At her raised eyebrows he backpaddles a bit.

“May be not tell her, but _show_ her at least?”, he sits in front of her, hunched, lost. So unsure of what he should do.

The Doctor nods, contemplating her next words.

“Do you want to _tell_ her?”

“Wha –“, he throws her an incredulous look, hands hanging clasped between his knees, “Is you hearing impaired, Doctor?”

“Lucifer?”, she completely ignores his remark, “Do you want to tell her you _love_ her?” Emphasizing her words she waits.

“Yes, of course I do”, he rolls his eyes, annoyed. Really that was what he paid her for? That she’s literally rephras- oh. His face goes slack.

“Like”, he stutters, “like you mean…?”

“Yes”, her eyes twinkle amusedly, “exactly like that.”

She wants him to tell Chloe he loves her. _Loves_. He doesn’t even remember whether he had ever told anyone that. And now he is repeating her. Bloody fucking amazing. But - he didn’t lie. He wants to. He wants to, as much as the something inside is trying to claw its way out of his chest at the mere thought of it. Absentmindedly he rubs along his sternum, trying to numb the emotion.

“I”, he swallows as he continues quietly, “I suppose I want that, Doctor, but I am not sure whether I can.”

“Hm”, she makes and thank his father she doesn’t try to dissect his admission. “Sometimes”, she continues, “When we are nervous about something it can help to do a little test run. Job interviews, important discussions and so on.”

He stares at her.

“We do so by practicing in front of a mirror.”

A pause.

“No. Absolutely not.”

-{oOo}-

“That’s preposterous”, he growls as he’s leaning over his sink, his image staring back at him, pale faced, dark eyes narrowed to slits. Why is he even considering this? He is the devil. The devil doesn’t need to practice anything in front of the bloody mirror. The only thing it is used for is either to check his bedazzling appearance or for the fulfillment of carnal desires. Period.

And yet he finds himself staring at himself, muscles straining from the tension that has coiled tightly inside him, bare chest heaving. His features are contorted as he ponders and wonders what the bloody hell he is doing here, nervous like some pubescent wanker. Another growl of frustration leaves his throat.

_You have erected walls between yourself and your emotions._

He releases a shuddering breath. He is suddenly very aware that the Doctor has way too much influence on him as he closes his eyes. Here goes nothing.

_You need to bring those walls down._

The hairs of his neck stand up protesting as he tries to reach for his soul, pressed tightly into the back of his very being. Annoyance rubs his nerves raw as he tries and tries, but the blasted thing won’t move. He rubs across his face with a defeated motion. For the first time in more than five years he wishes for his wings back, for them to spread protectively behind him, shielding him from the rest of the world, but all he is left with are the twin scars on his back. His bathroom door is locked, he has told his staff not to let anyone up. He is alone. There is no one but him and his mirror image. Again, his eyes flutter shut. He could do it. No matter how much he hated the raw feeling of being exposed, he is alone and if he’s alone he is safe. There is no one but him. He cowers and reaches for the frightened part of him that is his soul, softly coaxing it, caressing it, assuring it that it is alright, because they are alone, he is alone and he is safe. He has forgotten how bright it was, the little broken rest that had remained from when he had been cast out into the darkness. In all those millennia he hadn’t required it, but now he does. As he finally touches it, carefully and hesitant, he can feel it. Feel it all.

The pain. The fear. The emotion that he identifies as love. He opens his lids, meeting his own gaze, he blows out the breath that he has been holding. Right. Practice.

“I”, he opens his mouth, before letting out a harsh laugh. This is ridiculous. He shakes his head. The light inside him peeks between his outstretched fingers, curiosity bigger than any fear. _Like the Detective_ , he realizes. As he glances at the soft smile on his lips, he squares his shoulders and conjures her figure in front of his inner eye. The way her mouth curves upwards when she’s rolling her eyes at something he said. Her soft voice when she is talking to her offspring, the fond expression on her face when she glances at him when he has actively contributed to the case. The way she takes time to listen to him, to be there for him. She is his best friend, even though Maze has been just that for millennia. But with her he can lower his guard, let feelings bleed through his confident exterior. She…

“Chloe”, he whispers into the emptiness of his bathroom and it echoes. He opens his lids.

“You are… you mean everything to me.” The words roll off his tongue like a foreign language that he has never hear before, yet they come right out of his soul. His old, battered and maybe a little less broken soul. He swallows.

_I’ve always been on your side._

He sucks oxygen into his lungs. “I… I am so, so grateful to have you in my life. To have you by my side.” She is right in front of him and he is yearning. She deserves to hear this from him, even when he can’t picture telling her in person. His arms strain and shake as a shudder runs along his spine.

“Chloe”, he is staring right into nothing and he struggles, so he tightens his grip against the sink as if to ground himself, but how can he stay grounded when he is so afraid from falling? His wings are no longer there to catch him.

“ _I_ ”, his voice barely above a breath, “ _I love you_.”

-{oOo}-

It’s late and he should be tired because of the day he has had, but he is wide awake, heart pounding. His fingers are occupied with his cufflinks while his thoughts slowly but surely head towards complete overdrive. What if that isn’t a good idea? What if she’s going to be angry at him for not telling her sooner? For deceiving her? For – okay. He’d stop it. Bloody hell, he’d get his arse up and deal with this like the devil he is. With elegance, Prada and honesty. Easy. Maybe not, but he’s digressing. With a last glance at himself in the corvette’s rearview mirror he gets out of the car to make his way towards the Detective.

“Ready?”, he smiles at her, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart, fiddling with his cufflinks. Her lips curve into a small smile and he can’t think of anything more beautiful in his father’s whole creation.

“Aside from feeling ridiculously underdressed, I’m good”, she sighs and looks down at the dark leather hugging her figure. She loves that jacket and he loves it on her. Her golden waves are up in one of her nononsense ponytails and he feels the familiar warmth coursing through his veins. 

“You look lovely as ever, don’t worry, Detective”, his voice soft and open.

“Thanks, Lucifer”, she steals a glance at him, “Are you okay?”

His heart jumps in his chest. She is here so yes, he is, but - he blows out a quick breath, “Just a little nervous, not worth the mention really.”

“Hey”, her fingers find their way to his arm and his eyes fall onto it almost instantly. She does that ever so often. Brush his shoulder reassuringly when she gets up to get herself a new cup of the swill she calls coffee, touch his arm like she is doing now, when she talks to him, “There’s no reason for that, okay? I’m sure her and I will get along, alright?”

His heart might as well just burst at that. She is so accepting and supportive of him and he forgets that he wanted to be anxious about his revelation.

His gaze lifts and he is sure she must see right into him as he answers with a soft, “Alright.” She smiles brightly at him, only to be interrupted by her stomach growling.

“I’m starving”, she tugs at his arm to get him moving, “Let’s go!”

Laughter rolls through his being as they head across the street into the restaurant.

The scent of fresh herbs mingling with the rich flavour of olive oil and garlic meets them as they slip inside. It takes him back to Rome for a flash of a second, sun kissing his skin and warm bread and the soft sourness of grapes on his lips. But then he’s back with her and the smell is associated with something far more precious.

“A reservation on Morningstar”, he tells the server with a bright smile. A few moments of pages flickering and then the other man leads the way. It takes every ounce of his willpower not to reach for her hand and tug her with him.

“Detective, are you coming?”, he calls instead and she whips around, radiant smile and shining eyes, and she follows him.

Like the gentleman he is, he pulls the chair out for her, before taking a seat in front of her, motioning for the server to fill both their glasses with the deep colour of Bordeaux. With a deep breath he braces himself.

“Right”, he starts, unsure of where to begin and he leans forward, forearms braced against the table. Her blue eyes look up at him in question and he could lose himself in them, as cheesy as it sounds, “There’s something I need to tell you, Detective, before we can begin this evening. I … it concerns my, well, the woman I’ve been talking so much about lately. I –“, he blows the air out of his cheeks. Bloody fantastic. He is rambling. But how does one induce the conversation that _the woman I’ve been gushing about is actually you and I might also happen to be completely and utter love with you_?

“Hey”, her hand finds his, thumb stroking it reassuringly, as she flashes him a soft smile. His fingers are trembling ever so slightly under hers. “Whatever it is, whatever you wanna tell me, I am here for you, okay?”

He lifts his gaze up to meet hers. “Right. Yes”, he swallows, before clearing his throat, to get rid of the lump of emotion that’s so contently nestled in his pharynx. “Detective, it’s true, there is a very special woman in my life that I have – as of late - found to harbour a great deal of fondness for. I – she… she is, well.” He shuts his mouth quickly. Struggling with his words. She squeezes his hand lightly.

“Lucifer, you can tell me who she is, alright? I- you have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

_It’s you_ , he wants to say, _has always been you_.

He nods, making up his mind. Closing his eyes for a brief second, he hesitantly offers his hand to his soul and it readily takes it. His time to shine now.

His gaze meets hers, walls lowered and ready.

“The woman, I care so much for, she is – she means everything to me”, he continues – _you mean everything to me_ \- and he tries to keep his words steady, but how could he when she’s looking at him like that?

“She’s”, he swallows, one deep breath.

“Her name is Chloe Jane Decker”, he says, heart rapidly beating, “she walked into Lux one day, pestering me with questions regarding the murder of a companion of mine and we have been solving crimes together ever since.“

_Immortality, mh, of course. Do you spell that with one or two “m”s I always forget?_

She stares right at him, with those eyes resembling the ocean that he has grown to love so much. 

“What?”, she breathes, her fingers around his tightening, “me?”

“That’s what I said, Detective, do keep up”, he teases her, but it sounds shaky and a little pathetic to him.

And then she continues to stare and the small smile on his lips starts to drip away. His soul is frantically tugging at his hand, trying to escape. But he holds on. _Just a little longer_ , he tells it, pleads. He searches her expression for something and freezes as he realizes that her eyes are shimmering more than they normally do. His grip around his soul loosens.

Didn’t humans normally like kind-of-love confessions?

“Detective, are you alright?”, he manages to ask, “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

She shakes her head and oh father. This was not a good idea. Why did he think it was in the first place?

“You’re not alri…”, his voice fades, “I apologize, that wasn’t my intention.”

“Lucifer.”

“Det- Chloe, shall I go? Is that-“ _what you want? For me to go_? 

“Lucifer!”

His mouth snaps shut and he stares at her. “Detective?” What – is she grinning?

With a swift motion she leans across the table, her face impossible close to his and her eyes sparkle with mirth as she breathes against him,

“Shut up.”

The softness of her lips against his takes him by surprise, before he melts against her and his soul - old, battered and still broken - soars in his chest, blinding and proud as it once was.

Even heaven knows he loves her.


End file.
